Isaac's Infinity
by The Writer0214
Summary: Augustus Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster have already had their little infinity. Someone else needed and deserved a shot a little infinity. Augustus comes back from beyond the grave to assure a conflicted and confused Hazel that it was alright to let go, that he wanted her to be happy with her choices.


Five years... Has it really been that long? I've always found myself asking that question. How could it be five years? It still feels like yesterday that Augustus Waters left us to go to _Somewhere with a capital-S_. Not a day has gone by that I didn't think of him—I always did.

I thought I would follow him to _Somewhere with a capital-S_. But alas, my time hadn't come. They had discovered a drug stronger than Phalanxifor. They named it Phalanxifor 2.0 (go figure). This new treatment did it. It totally killed the tumors. Dr. Maria said it was nothing short of a miracle. I've been cancer free for five years now. NEC—no evidence of cancer. It hasn't returned ever since. And now I no longer need Philipp (I kinda miss him) or my tank. No more cannula, and I can breathe like a normal person again—something I hadn't experienced in forever. Isaac's cancer hasn't come back either. His life has been quite normal—even his blindness is normal. He has learned to embrace it.

Speaking of Isaac, I'm confused. After Gus's death, he and I have grown closer. I shut myself off from the world, but not from him. My door was always open to him. We've actually become best friends over the years. We've grown so close that it's actually scary. I feel like I'm falling for him. Oh, Gus! What am I supposed to do? I can't help but feel that falling for my best friend—my dead boyfriend's best friend—is a crime. I feel like I'm hurting Gus by doing so. I know Gus would want me to move on, to let him go. But why can't I? Sometimes I wish I was more like Isaac. He hasn't thought of Monica since. He hasn't even mentioned her once. Five years...

I got out of bed to splash some water on my face—to maybe clear my thoughts. To wake me up.

_Don't be silly, Hazel_, I said to myself. _It's not adultery; you're not going to Hell for that._

I brushed the thought aside and turned the faucet on, proceeding to wash my face.

_You're not thinking rationally, Hazel_.

I turned the water off when I had finished and reached for the towel draped on the ring beside it. I screamed when I opened my eyes again after drying my face. (I hope the neighbors on my floor don't come knocking on my door.) There in the mirror, as clear as day, was Augustus Waters' reflection. Augustus Matthias Waters as I remembered him in life. Confident, charming, charismatic... Smug. Full of life and optimism, a young man on a roller coaster than only went upward. An unlit stick of cigarette between his lips, as per usual.

"Gus!" I blurted out, nearly out of breath. I thought I would need my tank again to help me breathe. I had to lean against the bathroom wall to keep me from falling.

"Hello, Hazel Grace," he said, stepping closer. "I never got the chance to thank you for the pack of cigarettes. I enjoy being able to put one in my mouth again."

I smiled and blushed, the memory of Gus's funeral flooding back to me.

"You're welcome," I said after recovering. "Are they allowed in Somewhere with a capital-S?"

"Thankfully, it is," he said, followed by that smug Augustus Waters smile I loved so much. God, I haven't seen that smile in a long time.

"I've missed you, Augustus Waters," I say, reaching up to touch his face.

"I've missed you, too, Hazel Grace," he said, touching his forehead to mine. "Can we go for a drive?"

"Sure, why not?" I said. "Where are we going?"

"To where it all began," he said. "Let's drive down to the Literal Heart of Jesus."

_Why there?_ I wanted to ask. That place... It held so many memories. Both happy and heartbreaking. It was where I first met Augustus. Where he first told me I was beautiful, that I looked like Natalie Portman in _V For Vendetta_. It was where we watched Monica and Isaac's makeout session. (Wait a second! Why did my blood boil just a little at the thought of Isaac making out with and groping Monica?) It was where we held a little pre-funeral for Gus. Why does he want us to go there?

"I want to revisit the place I first saw you," Gus said, as though in answer to my question. "There's something I have to tell you. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, wiping tears away.

It's a 30-minute drive from my apartment, with me driving and Augustus in the passenger seat (or was it his ghost?). I parked my car in the parking lot and Augustus and I got out of the car.

"Let's go in, shall we?" he said, motioning for me to lead the way.

I found the door unlocked, as before. Nothing had changed in five years. They still left the door unlocked.

"So?" I said turning to face Augustus. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Hazel Grace," he said. And the way he said my name made my throat tighten. It was as if he was saying goodbye. "Hazel Grace, I love you. Okay? And I know... I know that you love me."

"Augustus," was all I could say.

"I know you love me, and I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for, as you worded it, our little infinity. But there's someone else who needs a little infinity. Someone who deserves it."

"Augustus," I said, "what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Isaac, Hazel." I knew what he was talking about. "Every day, as I watch from Somewhere with a capital-S, I see his pain. He loves you, Hazel Grace. So much. But he's afraid to let you know. He knows I always have your heart. And I always will. But Hazel Grace, we both know it's time to let go. Start a new infinity with Isaac."

"Augustus..."

"Start a new infinity with him. I don't mind. It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you, Hazel Grace," he said, kissing me. And in that moment, I was in Amsterdam all over again. At the Anne Frank House. After a long time, he released me.

"Okay?" I said.

"Okay," he answered and kissed my forehead.

And then he was gone.

* * *

I woke up in my own bed back in my studio apartment, my laptop on the bed. I had decided to become a novelist—I was working on a sequel to _An Imperial Affliction_, Van Houten's final wish before he passed. He asked me if I would do him the honor of continuing AIA. I told him yes.

The next thing I noticed after seeing my laptop at my feet (It's a miracle I didn't kick it in my sleep!) were papers I had apparently been holding in my hand. Gus's handwriting. It was his letter to Van Houten. I read it.

**_Van Houten,_**

**_I'm a good person but a shitty writer. You're a shitty person but a good writer. We'd make a good team. I don't want to ask you any favors, but if you have time—and from what I saw, you have plenty—I was wondering if you could write a eulogy for Hazel. I've got notes and everything, but if you could just make it into a coherent whole or whatever? Or even just tell me what I should say differently._**

**_Here's the thing about Hazel: Almost everyone is obsessed with leaving a mark upon the world. Bequeathing a legacy. Outlasting death. We all want to be remembered. I do, too. That's what bothers me most, is being another unremembered casualty in the ancient and inglorious war against disease._**

**_I want to leave a mark._**

**_But Van Houten: The marks humans leave are too often scars. You build a hideous minimall or start a coup or try to become a rock star and you think, "They'll remember me now," but (a) they don't remember you, and (b) all you leave behind are more scars. Your coup becomes a dictatorship. Your minimall becomes a lesion._**

**_(Okay, maybe I'm not such a shitty writer. But I can't pull my ideas together, Van Houten. My thoughts are stars I can't fathom into constellations.)_**

**_We are like a bunch of dogs squirting on fire hydrants. We poison the groundwater with our toxic piss, marking everything MINE in a ridiculous attempt to survive our deaths. I can't stop pissing on fire hydrants. I know it's silly and useless—epically useless in my current state—but I am an animal like any other._**

**_Hazel is different. She walks lightly, old man. She walks lightly upon the earth. Hazel knows the truth: We're as likely to hurt the universe as we are to help it, and we're not likely to do either._**

**_People will say it's sad that she leaves a lesser scar, that fewer remember her, that she was loved deeply but not widely. But it's not sad, Van Houten. It's triumphant. It's heroic. Isn't that the real heroism? Like the doctors say: First, do no harm._**

**_The real heroes anyway aren't the people doing things; the real heroes are the people NOTICING things, paying attention. The guy who invented the smallpox vaccine didn't actually invent anything. He just noticed that people with cowpox didn't get smallpox._**

**_After my PET scan lit up, I snuck into the ICU and saw her while she was unconscious. I just walked in behind a nurse with a badge and I got to sit next to her for like ten minutes before I got caught. I really thought she was going to die before I could tell her that I was going to die, too. It was brutal: the incessant mechanized haranguing of intensive care. She had this dark cancer water dripping out of her chest. Eyes closed. Intubated. But her hand was still her hand, still warm and the nails painted this almost black dark blue and I just held her hand and tried to imagine the world without us and for about one second I was a good enough person to hope she died so she would never know that I was going, too. But then I wanted more time so we could fall in love. I got my wish, I suppose. I left my scar._**

**_A nurse guy came in and told me I had to leave, that visitors weren't allowed, and I asked if she was doing okay, and the guy said, "She's still taking on water." A desert blessing, an ocean curse._**

**_What else? She is so beautiful. You don't get tired of looking at her. You never worry if she is smarter than you: You know she is. She is funny without ever being mean. I love her. I am so lucky to love her, Van Houten. You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers._**

In that moment, I felt like Augustus was reminding me of what I said to him five years ago when I first read those words. I repeated them now, out loud.

"I do, Augustus. I do."

He wanted me to be happy with my choices. And I know what my choice is now. I choose to let Augustus Waters go and give Isaac a shot at infinity. Of course, Gus would always have my heart. But Isaac deserves that infinity as well. I showered, dressed, then called Isaac, leaving a message in his voicemail.

"Isaac, hi," I said, a little nervous. "It's a Saturday today and I just thought about you. If you're free, call me. I'll come pick you up, we'll have brunch, and then we can play _Counterinsurgence 2_. I've been out of practice. Alright, I'll see you soon. Bye."


End file.
